


The Disappearance of Ishida Yamato

by CottontailOverdose



Category: Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, At some point.., Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Guilt (Tv show), M/M, Murder Mystery, Other, Post Digimon Tri, Post-Canon, Probably won't follow the same story throughout.., Slow Burn, Sort of? - Freeform, Yamato & Sora past relationship, Yamato is missing, budding relationship??, you know... because Yamato is missing...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 12:24:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15995171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CottontailOverdose/pseuds/CottontailOverdose
Summary: After a long day of work Hiroaki comes home in the early hours to sleep.When he wakes he find his apartment torn apart and his son missing.. oh and don't forget the blood.





	The Disappearance of Ishida Yamato

**Author's Note:**

> Herrow...
> 
>  
> 
> This is my first time posting.. and first fic story actually.. please be kind to this fluffy lagomorph! 
> 
>  
> 
> (\\_/)  
> (o.o)  
> (___)0

The front door being open should have been the first clue that something was off. However it was not for the lack of intuition that Hiroaki continued past the slightly ajar wood, it was the fact that the man was coming off a long shift and just wanted to turn off. After making sure the door was shut and locked behind him, the idea that there is always time to yell at Yamato later compelled Hiroaki to will his body toward his bedroom. 

 

Everything was still dark in the early hours of the morning, and Hiroaki could at best only make out the blurred shapes of the furniture laid about the apartment. The quiet stillness of his home was a welcomed changed to the never sleeping hallways of the T.V Station where he worked. His feet ghosted along the cold tile as he effortlessly navigated through the kitchen. His body trained expertly in its layout after years of silent entrances and exits. 

 

His socked foot pressed in what he could only assume is some water from the sink before reaching his destination. To tired to care about something as trivial as a wet sock, Hiroaki fell into his bed, his mind well into a dream before his head had hit the pillow. 

 

* * *

 

Birds chirping...

 

Birds chirping........

 

 

Hiroaki slowly blinked his eyes open. Despite his curtains being drawn a soft orange glow crept out from underneath. The air was stale, and dust danced in the rays of light. Calloused hands rubbed his temple and then trailed through brunette hair, before reaching for his bedside clock. The soft aura of the red numbers whispering back to his tired eyes. 

 

It was well past noon. 

 

Hiroaki's battered body popped and cracked as he quickly pulled himself up. What in the name of hell was he doing sleeping so late?! Yamato had school! 

 

"YAMATO!" His father called out putting his worn out joints back to work. 

 

There was no response. 

 

Hiroaki began to walk out of his bedroom, albeit not making it very far. His body froze as if his spine had snapped. The humming in his ears slowly increasing in tempo to match the rapid rate in which he heart thumped. 

 

To say the living room was a mess was a understatement. Cautiously the old brunette took one more step into the open concept living space. From his current position he could see the entirety of his apartment. The kitchen and living room before him were in complete disarray. The sofa and chair were overturned, the grooves of their former resting place showed in the mis-colored carpet spaces. 

 

Rusty red splotches dotted and spattered a trail along the cream colored carpet to the island. One of the bar stools that normally stood along the counter was smashed in a few pieces as if hit by a heavy weight. 

 

His vision had become blurred and tunneled.   His head turned towards his left, a small hallway where the bathroom and Yamato's room resided. His feet carried his body without thinking, the pounding on the hard tile floor echoing in his ears much louder then any of music from one of his son's concerts. 

 

There was the heavy pressure on the parents chest a pounding thump with each drop from his foot. 

 

Thump. Thump.

_As long as he is in his room...._

Thump. Thump.

 

Hiroaki tightly gripes the aged door handle and pushed his entire body into the door to open it. The door opens with ease and the man almost trips with the inertia of his entrance. 

 

His eyes quickly scan the room.

 

Thump. Thump. 

 

_Balcony!_

Thump. Thump. 

 

Continuing through the vacant space Hiroaki makes his way to the small balcony attached to Yamato's room. The sliding glass door was open and it was easy for the parent to see that the concrete space was also in occupied, but he still needed to step out to be sure. 

 

Thump. Thump. 

 

_Maybe he is at school?_

Thump. Thump. 

 

Hiroaki's brain races with thoughts. With the grace of a zombie he re enters his sons bedroom. "School.." he mumbles to himself. His voice sounds foreign to his ears. 

Hiroaki begins to move around some stuff unsure of what exactly he is looking for. 

 

Some clothes.

 

His bass.

 

A few cds on the dresser. 

 

And there, in the little space between his bed and desk, Yamato's school bag. 

 

Hiroaki collapses on Yamato's bed. Still not totally convinced this is not a cruel dream. 

 

Thump. Thump. 

 

Closing his eyes he takes in a deep breath. 

 

"One.." 

 

Thump. Thump. 

 

"Two.." 

 

Thump. 

 

"Three..." 

 

Hiroaki opens his eyes as his heart begins to slow. The ringing in his ears still buzzing like a refrigerator. His right hand drifts down to his cargo pocket and pulls out his phone. 

 

Flipping the top, his thumb holds down the one like it has on so many other occasions. 

The phone automatically dials a set of numbers in a robotic tune. Hiroaki does not bother to bring the phone up to his face as it begins to ring signaling a successful call. 

 

The loud rattling of another phone draws defeated blue orbs up to the desk. Yamato's phone lit up and vibrating to the beat of his fathers call. 

 

Hiroaki does not have it in him to hang up before the answering machine picks up. 

 

 Thump. Thump. 

 

Again his fingers glide along the rubber buttons of his phone. One the call connects he brings the phone to his ear. 

 

A feminine voice greets the caller after a couple rings. 

 

Hiroaki does not speak. 

 

"Hiroaki? Did you pocket dial me? I mean it is obviously stupid to ask-" The voice sounds from the receiver before being cut off.

 

"Nancy.. Can you come over?" Hiroaki speaks, his voice choppy. 

 

"Is something wrong?" The ex-wife questions. The tone of his voice. The fact he was calling. She could feel something in her gut, and she did not like it. 

 

"I.. Something... I think somthing happened to Yamato.." Hiroaki's words stumbled out. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well... I hope you all enjoyed
> 
> I am just sorta testing the waters, I have a bunch of ideas of where this story could go... 
> 
> So any advice or comments would be lovely.


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